


remember

by orphan_account



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, Written pre-Series 2, i.e. IN HAPPIER TIMES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a pair of Tom and Sybil centric drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. tom

**Author's Note:**

> this was written right after series one, I believe, so please excuse whatever doesn't fit in with the show's canon since then.

You really shouldn't be looking.

But you can't help yourself. Her dark hair curls down her back, the candlelight glinting off it, picking out strands of gold and honey, and making her eyes dance as she talks to the girls around her, laughing and joking. Her pretty mouth stretches into a warm smile when she sees you, and she drops everything to walk – no, glide - over to talk to you, standing by the door, not permitted to join in.

Her voice is quiet and girlish, but there's none of the mindless patter you can hear from the girls around the room. She has opinions, real, valid opinions, and an honest heart.

As she talks, you remember the time you gave her the leaflets, and how she valued your opinion. You remember the time she walked into the sitting room wearing a pair of trousers, and the way she delighted in startling her family. You remember the words she said the night she fought with her father (the words she repeated to you afterwards) while you stood downstairs, praying that she'd be alright. You remember the threat she made – that if you went, she went too. You remember how your heart was racing as she said it to you, remember how that was the moment you fell in love with her.

And then you remember what Mrs Hughes said, and remember that you're a chauffeur, and she's a Lady, and that nothing can ever happen.

Although by the way she's looking at you, she's not remembering that.


	2. sybil

You really shouldn't be looking.

But you can't help yourself. His golden hair sweeps across his forehead, the candlelight glinting off it, strands of it falling into his eyes, and his eyes follow you around the room while he talks to the footmen, and he thinks you don't notice. You smile at him, and his eyes light up when you go to talk to him – who wants to talk about parties when you can talk about politics?

You can almost hear the smile in his soft Irish voice when he talks to you about your beliefs. He's genuinely interested, and values your opinion, and doesn't just see you as a pretty face, the way the other gentlemen around the room do.

You remember the time he gave you the leaflets, and the weird fluttering in your stomach when he talked to you about his ideals. You remember that he inspired you to wear  _that gown_ and the way he looked at you through the window, as if he didn't think you'd notice him. You remember being told about how he carried you out of that fight, remember how that was when you began to fall in love with him. You remember the fight that night with Papa, and telling him afterwards, and you _especially_ remember how you meant  _every word you said._

And then you remember that you're from completely different stations in life, and society expects you to marry one of the arrogant men in the room

And then you remember that it's really time to stop giving a damn what society expects.


End file.
